Orange Sherbet and a Cold Can of Whoop-Ass
by BittahWizard
Summary: "The Man in the Soda Jerk Hat" Part 2 / A month into the lucrative ice cream business, Five asks his brothers for a ride in their truck.


"I quit!"

"That's the fifth time you've said that today."

"No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"It _totally_ is, isn't it Ben?" Klaus turns away from a fuming Diego to look at his other brother from another mother.

Ben shakes his head no and holds up only two fingers.

Klaus grins triumphantly at Diego and waves a hand in Ben's direction. "Ben agrees with me!"

Ben squints at Klaus from where he's sitting, still trying to unwrap an orange sherbet push-pop. "Liar."

Klaus scowls at Ben. "Who asked you?!"

"You did. Just now."

Diego crosses his arms and smirks. "Ben agreed with me, didn't he?"

"No!"

Diego leans against the ice cream freezer, smile turning smug. "Uh-huh."

Still staring intently at his push-pop, Ben laughs. "Diego's impervious to your bullshit, Klaus."

"Whatever!" Klaus shouts. "The point is, you're always saying you want to quit—whether it's today, yesterday, tomorrow—it doesn't matter! We've been at this a month, and you're still here!"

Diego's catlike grin morphs into a scowl.

"We're having a great time—just admit it! The truck is making money! You get free popsicle perks!"

Ben's nodding along, finger still ghosting through the sherbet's paper tube.

"I know you like working here! Ben knows! The kids know!" Klaus pauses his rant, takes a deep breath, and puts his hands on his hips. "The whole world knows that you actually enjoy this job, so stop trying to convince us otherwise. You're the only one that still believes it."

"He's right, you know."

All three brothers whip around to look out the truck's window. Five is standing outside with his hands in his pockets and an amused glint in his eyes.

"Yeah, well, what do you know?" Diego challenges.

Five scuffs his heel against the sidewalk, deceptive _golly-gee mister_ whimsy in the set of his shoulders. "What do _I_ know?" He chuckles, running a finger along the truck's purple paint job. "I know that if you were an ice cream, _Diego—_you'd be _soft serve_."

Klaus moves quickly, latching onto Diego's back like a monkey when he tries to lunge out of the window after Five.

Five steps closer to where Diego is hanging out of the truck. He gets right up in his brother's face...and flicks him on the nose. "If you're gonna work in the service industry, you'll need to work on your customer service."

Diego growls.

Klaus tightens his grip.

Ben gives up on his push-pop, watching as the orange sherbet oozes out of the tube, turning into a sticky puddle beneath the wrapper.

"Now," Five grabs the lapels of his jacket and straightens it, "one of you losers start this shit-heap up. I have an important meeting and you're giving me a ride."

Diego stops struggling, curiosity temporarily outweighing his need to commit fratricide. "Oh, we are, are we?"

The corners of Five's mouth creep slowly upward, higher and higher until his grin is nothing short of manic. He widens his eyes. "Yeah, you are." He claps a hand against Diego's cheek twice. "Nice paper hat, by the way."

Diego lunges again.

* * *

The radio plays quietly in the background—the tuner forever stuck on an oldies station—as Klaus drives them to wherever the fuck Five wants them to go. It's some house near Hyde Park, but common sense tells them all that it's important—that shit's about to get the realest of _real_.

Diego is standing behind the passenger seat, fingers idly toying with the hilt of his butterfly knife. He hasn't taken his eyes off of Five the entire ride.

Ben's sitting cross-legged in the back, staring longingly at the discarded orange sherbet wrappings littered on the floor around Five's feet.

Klaus eyes Five in the rear view mirror.

His brother meets his gaze steadily.

"So…," Klaus begins. "why didn't you just…teleport yourself to the meeting?"

Five finishes the last of his popsicle—it's his third by the looks of all the wrappers—and throws the trash onto the floor. He sticks his hand into the popsicle freezer to his left and pulls out another. He holds it up for Klaus to see and waves a hand all around it with Vanna White flair. Then he tears into the top, pushes up the sherbet, and takes a giant bite.

"Ah, the old family discount, eh?"

Five raises his brows and starts to chew obnoxiously.

"If you keep acting like a brat, I'm going to start charging."

Ben pouts.

"Stop frowning, Ben—you can't even eat anyway!"

Five grins around his treat.

Diego throws a knife at the ground, piercing through Five's last wrapper and pinning it to the truck.

"Stop throwing knives in the van! We've talked about this! It's coming out of your pay, mister stabby stab!"

"Fuck you," Diego mutters.

Klaus beams, too wide and a little unhinged. "Love you, too."

* * *

"Think you can just—" _Smack! _"—stalk my family and I wouldn't notice?!" _Thud! _"You think a house full of superhumans—" _Kick! _"—couldn't find you, you piece of trash, you fucking creep—"

"Help, please! Somebody—" _Smack! Crash! _"—I'm being killed by Peter Pan!"

"Shut up!" Five roundhouse kicks the man's back, sending him to the ground.

Distant applause can be heard.

"And where do you think you're going?" Five rages as he teleports in front of his punching bag—the one that's still trying to crawl away.

Diego, Ben, and Klaus are all leaning against the ice cream truck, watching their teenage brother beat the shit out of Leonard Peabody—uh, Harold Jenkins?—in an alley.

"I almost feel sorry for him," Ben says, cringing when Five teleports five feet above the guy and lets himself drop down onto Jenkins' back.

Harold's chin meets the asphalt with a sickening _Crack!_

"I don't," Klaus replies with his fists in the air, punching furiously in time to Five's own moves.

Diego's eyes are riveted on the scene. He smirks as Five picks up an empty garbage can and tosses it at Leonard. "What did Ben say?"

Klaus' fists of fury slow when he looks over at Diego. "He said he feels sorry for Pea-Brain."

Diego snorts. "I don't."

Klaus whoops and loops an arm around Diego's shoulder. "It's like we're on the same wavelength, bro. Sharing a job is doing wonders for our relationship!"

Diego rolls his eyes, but he doesn't shrug off Klaus' hand.

"Just think," Klaus continues, "in another month, we'll be, like, the same fucking person. Mark my words!"

"God, I hope not," Ben mutters.

Klaus reaches out his other hand to smack him, and both of them jump in shock when Klaus makes contact with the back of Ben's head.

"Ouch!"

Looking down at his hands, Klaus smiles and points a finger gun at Ben. "Just add Brotherly Smackdown to my ever-growing list of abilities."

Diego bites down on his lip, trying to suppress a grin.

"Hey, assholes!"

All three look back over to Five, who's standing over Leonard Peabody's, well—_body_.

"Fuck!" Diego exclaims. "Is he _dead?_" He jogs over and kicks the guy with his boot, and then shares a bloodthirsty smirk with Five. "That was quick."

Klaus looks around the alleyway and calls out, "He's not dead."

Five frowns. "Really? Huh." Then he starts walking back to the van. "I think he got the gist of my message, though."

"You could say," Ben says with a sly tilt of his chin, "that he's not _quite dead yet_."

"You, you—" Klaus splutters. "Did you just make a _Monty Python_ reference?"

The corner of Ben's mouth ticks up. He nods from underneath his black hoodie.

"That's hilarious!" Klaus chortles, laughing and wheezing so hard that he has to bend over and hold onto his thighs for support.

"You guys are so fucking weird," Diego says as he walks back towards the truck. "You look like—" and then he abruptly trails off.

"What?" Five asks, always alert.

"I've seen that car before," Diego responds, eyes watching something moving in the distance. "On our route. I've seen—" and then Diego's eyes widen, and his body lurches towards Klaus. "Get down!"

It all happens in an instant.

Diego tackles Klaus to the ground, rolling them both under the carriage of the truck.

Klaus reaches for Ben before he realizes what he's doing.

Five teleports himself next to them in the blink of an eye.

They all manage to miss the spray of bullets in a matter of seconds.

Dozens of rounds rip through the truck, the thunderous metallic ricochets forcing all of the brothers to instinctively cover their heads with their arms.

When it stops, only the squealing of tires can be heard.

All of them watch as a beat-up Subaru hurtles around a corner, racing away until it's out of sight.

"Well, _fuck me_," Klaus chokes out, breathing heavily. "Old Harold sure brought some back-up this time."

Five glares at him. "I think it's pretty safe to say that they weren't with him."

"Whoever it was," Diego exhales, "they've been following us. Waiting for us to break pattern. Find a weak moment."

"We ride around in an ice cream truck," Ben says. "We have nothing _but_ weak moments."

"Shit, that's a comforting thought." Klaus rolls over onto his back. He lolls his head to the side, looking over at Five and Diego. Hysterical laughter builds in his throat. "You think it was a dissatisfied customer?"


End file.
